


A Little 'I Won't Quit You'

by missbip0lar



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (kind of???), Dubious Consent, Fantasizing, M/M, Male Masturbation, Mild Character Bleed, Pseudo-Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbip0lar/pseuds/missbip0lar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started off innocently, the way most dirty, depraved, <i>filthy</i> things often do. It started with an email, simple as that; a link in Sebastian’s inbox from Chris, with a subject line that said, <i>looks just like you! </i>and when Sebastian had opened the link to find a piece of art (<i>Bucky Barnes in black and white, with a serious look on his face and a simple description that read ‘drawn in Photoshop’</i>) it started the ball rolling. Because that picture had looked just like him, and Sebastian’s appreciation for the fans somehow increased tenfold, and there had to be more pictures like this one out there, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little 'I Won't Quit You'

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not, under any circumstances, condone showing actors explicit fan works.
> 
> For those of you reading my Camp Counselors AU, it should be back next week. I hit a bit of a snag whoops.

It started off innocently, the way most dirty, depraved, _filthy_ things often do. It started with an email, simple as that; a link in Sebastian’s inbox from Chris, with a subject line that said, _looks just like you!_ and when Sebastian had opened the link to find a piece of art ( _Bucky Barnes in black and white, with a serious look on his face and a simple description that read ‘drawn in Photoshop’_ ) it started the ball rolling. Because that picture had looked just like him, and Sebastian’s appreciation for the fans somehow increased tenfold, and there had to be more pictures like this one out there, right?

And there _were._ People love Bucky Barnes, people love _him_ as Bucky Barnes, and that fact will never ever ever fail to put a smile on Sebastian’s face. There are pictures of Bucky alone, pictures of Bucky with Natasha, pictures of Bucky with Sam and Tony and all the other Avengers, but it’s the pictures of Bucky with Steve that really start to draw Sebastian’s attention. These fans are _talented_ and _creative,_ and many of them really _really_ want to see Steve and Bucky in some sort of relationship. Some part of Sebastian can’t help but wonder if perhaps he’s the reason for that particular brand of creativity ( _an interview, Sebastian’s own words: ‘yeah, it’s a little I won’t quit you, a little Brokeback Mountain’_ ), but in reality he _hadn’t seen things that way_ \- not until now, that is, when he’s elbow deep in some website called Tumblr, where he’s accosted by fan theories and manipulated photographs and downright _gorgeous_ pieces of art, all of Bucky and Steve ( _him and Chris_ ) kissing and hugging and holding one another like they have always been that way. The fans make it look natural, like an obvious development of this character that Sebastian has spent _so much fucking time_ learning and growing to care about.

Part of him feels, as he scrolls through page after page after page, that he should be hurt by this, or even offended, but Sebastian finds he can’t. He believes it. He begins to see all the things these fans have already seen; the desperation of Bucky Barnes to keep Steve Rogers safe before the serum, the way the Winter Soldier had begun to overcome decades of brainwashing simply by seeing Steve’s face, Bucky Barnes pulling Steve Rogers to shore after the helicarrier, and _okay, this is too much._ Sebastian’s becoming a man possessed.

The search feature on Tumblr is… confusing, at best. It takes time, but eventually Sebastian finds there’s a setting to ‘remove SafeSearch.’ It’s a sick curiosity that drives him to remove this safe search, to allow “NSFW” posts. The images that flood the screen then make Sebastian’s breath catch in his throat and give him some kind of fucked-up tunnel vision. That’s… that’s _him,_ with his head tipped back in ecstasy, sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat while a blond head hovers in his lap and _holy shit. This is porn._

It takes some doing, but eventually Sebastian figures out how to find _those kinds of posts specifically._ He’s going through people’s blogs before he knows it, typing ‘/tagged/nsfw’ at the end of the URLs, and he’s tamping down the shame he feels every time he sees (or _reads,_ dear Christ there are so many _stories_ ) Steve and Bucky in some kind of blatantly sexual situation. But, _fuck,_ for some reason - at some point - Sebastian’s stopped thinking of them as _Steve and Bucky,_ and begun to see them as _Chris and Sebastian_ and that is _dangerous territory._ He’s walking a fine line now, feeling like a voyeur and an exhibitionist all at once. He feels like a shitty friend for taking something so innocent ( _'looks just like you!’_ ) and turning it into… well, _this._ With every pornographic image, each piece of fiction, Sebastian finds his pulse ratcheting up, his hands becoming clammy, the tips of his fingers numb and electrified all at once. He’s getting that tunnel vision again, and his imagination is beginning to run away from him. 

Sebastian starts to get hard in his jeans the first time he sees a very _realistic_ picture of Chris’ ( _Steve,_ he mentally berates himself, _it’s supposed to be Steve Rogers_ ) cock, hard and flushed and leaking from the tip, in the tight grasp of Bucky’s metal hand. _Jesus,_ but it’s beautiful. It’s pornographic, sure, and _dirty as all hell_ but it’s fucking _art_ the way these people can capture his and Chris’ likeness so flawlessly. It makes Sebastian wonder - he refuses to use the word _fantasize_ at this point but _let’s be real here_ \- if that’s really what Chris’ cock looks like. Sebastian’s no stranger to… _that side of things_ , but he’s never even considered Chris like that. Chris is his _friend,_ his co-star, but the things he has seen today alone make him want to reconsider. Has Chris seen things like this? He was the one to start this snowball rolling, after all. How had he come across the original picture he’d sent to Sebastian? Had he known Sebastian would find things like _this?_ There’s no way to be sure, and Sebastian _knows_ he should stop this from getting out of hand, but he’s already come this far and that sick curiosity is back and he needs to see _more,_ needs to see _what else Steve and Bucky do when no one’s around._

It’s arousal that drives him forward, fully erect and straining against the fly of his jeans as he continues to scroll. Most of these not safe for work pictures don’t feature the good stuff - no body parts to speak of. There are a lot of images of Bucky’s legs wrapped around a muscular waist, of Steve pressing Bucky’s chest down while he _takes him from behind,_ of Bucky hovering over Steve with his metal hand pinning Steve’s wrists above his head and both their faces drawn up in pleasure. The situation in his jeans is starting to become a legitimate problem now, something Sebastian will absolutely have to take care of before the night is over, and he briefly considers closing out of his current ( _holy shit_ ) _twenty tabs_ to redirect himself to PornHub or RedTube or _something more acceptable than this._ But before he can, before what he’s doing can really sink in, Sebastian’s undoing his fly and pushing his jeans and boxers down just enough to free the aching length of his cock.

It’s nothing more than instinct, at this point, to touch. His right hand remains on the down arrow on his laptop, but the other finds its way elsewhere; his thumb spreads a pearl of precome from his slit and it makes Sebastian’s breath catch in a tiny gasp. He’s already beginning to get light headed, his vision tunneling _again,_ and he forces himself to continue scrolling. He hasn’t even truly taken hold of himself yet, instead slicking up his fingers with each drop od precome that drools from the tip of his cock and rolling and pinching his foreskin between his fingers to keep himself hard until he finds _the one._ He knows it’s there, knows there is a picture on this fucking website that will take his self control and shatter it.

When he finds it, Sebastian can’t hold back the groan that works its way all the way up from the base of his cock before spilling past parted lips. It’s fucking _gorgeous;_ on a backdrop of pink and blue and a little bit of purple (the colors of the bisexual flag, Sebastian realizes), Steve Rogers is straddling Bucky’s lap, Bucky’s flesh and blood hand spread across his shoulder blade while the other hand - _the bionic one_ \- is using its fingers to open Steve up in preparation for… _well,_ it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to imagine what would come next. Sebastian can practically _feel_ the way his pupils dilate as he takes it all in, gripping himself tightly at the base of his cock to stop himself from just _coming at the sight._

It ignites fantasies; honest to God _I-want-Chris-Evans-in-my-lap-like-that fantasies,_ and Sebastian should _stop_. He should close these twenty tabs, delete his browser history, and forget he ever saw these things but he _can’t._ So instead his jeans and underwear are discarded in a flurry, landing somewhere next to his bed for him to relocate when the reality of what he’s doing truly hits him. _Later,_ he tells himself, finally taking himself in hand and stroking in earnest. His thighs fall open now, spread on either side of his laptop as he pushes back his foreskin to reveal the sensitive head of his dick. 

His eyes don’t leave the image on his screen as he pumps himself, squeezing on the upstroke and twisting his wrist at the very tip. Somewhere in the back of his mind, behind the hazy fog of abstract desire and _wantneedfucktighter,_ Sebastian has to tamp down the overwhelming feeling of shame at what he’s doing; fucking his fist to these images of - essentially - himself and Chris in increasingly filthy positions. He can imagine it, though, the way Steve would use his Captain voice on Bucky to order him into whatever position he wants him, the way Bucky would absolutely submit to him in every way, make Steve feel like his entire world is narrowed down to Bucky and the way he feels pushing into him or surrounding him on all sides, his ass squeezing _so so tightly_ around the fatness of Steve’s supersoldier cock.

The fantasies alone are enough to make Sebastian completely forget the pictures on his computer in favor of conjuring his _own._ There are just _so many ways_ Steve and Bucky could fuck; before the war they’d have had to be quiet while Bucky crowded little Stevie against the wall in their apartment, lifting him up and shoving into the tight reception of his asshole. With the Howling Commandos they’d have had a tent to themselves, drinking in the muted sounds of each other’s moans in the dead of night so they could keep this thing between them secret. After the Winter Soldier fiasco, when Bucky’s not quite Bucky but not quite the Asset, they could rediscover themselves like this, Bucky relearning the shape of Steve’s cock, the taste and weight of Steve on his tongue, and Steve would worship Bucky’s body, make him feel secure and safe and comfortable while he tries to regain his memories. It would be so easy for them, so simple for Steve and Bucky to fall into this kind of thing.

Sebastian can feel the character bleed coming before it happens, can feel himself slipping from the person he is to the character that he oftentimes feels is _in his blood_ , and his hand moves faster and faster over his cock. The sounds it makes are wet, filthy things that echo in the silence of his apartment and he finds himself thinking of what he - what _Bucky_ \- would like, how Bucky would touch himself and his hand picks up speed as he raises the other to his lips. He licks just the tip of two fingers before pressing them hard against his perineum, milking his prostate from the outside but _fuck_ it’s not enough and he needs _more_ , needs to feel the stretch and burn of penetration to complete the fantasy. He pulls those same two fingers into his mouth and slicks them with saliva, laving at them and sucking them like he would a cock ( _Steve’s cock,_ his mind supplies) before putting that hand back down between his legs. He doesn’t stop to think about it, doesn’t hesitate to try and talk himself out of it as he plunges both fingers inside himself at once and it pulls a whimper from his throat. It’s been so long, _years_ since Sebastian has known the rapture of being filled.

It’s becoming difficult to concentrate on both sensations at once now, and Sebastian has to alternate between thrusting into his fist and fucking down onto the fingers lodged deep inside himself. He can hear himself moaning and gasping, his voice sounding far away as he breathes out a name he should have expected after all this.

_“Stevie, oh god, mm, ah.”_

There’s a fire thrumming through his veins, his pulse pounding in his ears and behind his eyes and he can feel the lava of his impending climax pooling at the base of his spine. It’s coming, the anticipation of his release making him sweat as he his hand flies like lightning over his wet, feverish erection, and he digs his teeth into the pillow of his bottom lip so hard it threatens to split and bleed. There’s another fantasy bubbling to the surface; Chris this time, smirking at him behind that full fucking beard with a glint in his eye that promises… _something,_ before he puts his face between Sebastian’s thighs and presses his mouth to his asshole, licking and sucking at him and scraping at the tender flesh with his beard and that’s it, game over.

Sebastian’s coming in thick spurts over his fist while the fingers of his other hand dig relentlessly at the hard nub inside him, milking him of every last scalding drop of release he’s had building up inside for hours, for days, for fucking _weeks._ He’s shouting through it, barely even conscious his own volume as he empties himself and sees nothing but _white_ dancing across his field of vision. 

_"Jesus fucking Christ,"_ Sebastian breathes, still holding his limp cock with his fingers shoved up his ass.

Reality is beginning to settle in now, heavy and undeniable as his eyes slide back to the screen of his computer. 

"Fuck..."

There's no going back from this, Sebastian realizes. They'll be starting principal photography on Cap 3 soon, and he will have see Chris in that fucking costume again, will have to face him _as Bucky Barnes_ and will have to try like hell to not bring... whatever happened tonight on set with him. It will be difficult, looking at Chris as Steve Rogers without thinking about this. 

Sebastian cleans himself up then, slowly and with some kind of heaviness in his chest that he doesn't have a name for. It should be shame, it should be embarrassment. It's probably a little of both that he's feeling. There's only a split second of indecision ( _I should delete my history..._ ) before Sebastian simply minimizes the browser and closes the laptop. If he decides tomorrow that he wants to see more, well then that's no one's business but his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Stories like this are what happen when I have to listen to my roommate jerk off at 3 in the morning.


End file.
